Harder Than You Know
by Behind These Mako Eyes
Summary: Max Green is in love with Ashley Purdy's man, but knows he shouldn't. Not loving him is harder than he knows.  MaxOC, Ashley OC, Slight MaxMonte. MPREG. Slash.


Really fast A/N: Originally, I wrote this on Wordpad and it has the slash through the words choice. I used that almost like crossing something out because the character was thinking that, be decided against saying it. Things in parentheses are Max's personal thoughts.

So, with that left said...enjoy!

* * *

><p>"Done packing yet?" I asked, peeping his head into Jag's room.<p>

Jag is Ronnie's ex boyfriend and Monte's best friend. He's currently hooked up with Ashley Purdy. Jag's real name is Miles Decker, the nickname came from way back according to Monte.

Jag happens to also be the person I've been secretly in love with since he was on a 'just friends' basis with Ronnie. I've always loved him, really. From the strands of his ashy-blond hair and those beautiful hazel-green eyes all the way down to his flat feet and slender toes.

He was short and skinny, petite like Monte, but prettier. He never wore makeup, his own skin was radiant and beautiful. I could have wrote poetry about him for days and still be inspired to write more. I don't really understand it, but Jag had me wrapped around his little finger.

"No," he whined, laying back on his bed, "I don't wanna move." I could sort of understand why-he was stuffed full of (fatty taco bell food and twinkies) Ashley's fetus. Well, we think it's Ashley's. I personally don't think he'd go and sleep with someone he didn't love. That's really just the way Jag is.

"C'mon," I pressed, "the rest of us are packed, even the little opener band coming with us."

"Well, the rest of you, including the little opener band, aren't sick to your stomach and carrying an extra twenty pounds," he then lifted his head to look at me, "are you?"

He pulled this card when he was in this grumpy mood and everyone was suckered into it. I'm kind of glad I don't fall into the 'everyone' category. I tossed a pillow at him, grazing the crest of his overly stretched belly.

The blond on the bed threw me a look of irritablility, which I only laughed at. My laugh was, unfortunately, cut short as Monte smacked the back of my head as he entered the room.

"Max, stop pestering him," he scolded, sitting by his fellow blond. "How's the baby?"

"He's kicking right here," he replied grumpily, pointing to the obvious protrusions of teeny tiny fists or feet. (To be compltely honest, I've always wanted to touch it.) It was nasty looking from where I stood. Monte excitedly placed one of his tanned hands on the tiny hills that continued to disappear and reappear.

"How do you feel, Mommy?" Monte teased softly, seeming to play with the squirming baby from the outside.

"My skin is just so tense," Jag groaned, "like...a balloon filled with too much air, like I'll _explode_ if he kicks me just the right way."

"Well, Max can finish packing for you and I coul-"

"No way," I interjected, "I packed all my shit, he can pack his." I paused for a second, "he's pregnant, not useless."

I always pretended to be mean to him, I didn't really want Ashley to see how I really wanted to be towards him. That wouldn't end well.

This earned me a death glare from the lithe guitarist perched on the bed and a laugh from the pregnant man laying beside him. It kind of tugged on my heartstrings.

"He's right, I got it." Jag said light-heartedly, rubbing Monte's back lightly. Said guitarist huffed in defeat and stalked out of the room. "Hey, butthole, come help me up."

I did happen to fall into the 'butthole' category most of the time, so I did go and help him to his feet. He stood there for a minute, holding his stomach.

"You alright?"

"He's just heavy," the blond said, smiling in this semi-pained way.

"Were you a big baby?"

"Nope," Jag said, "I was born extremely underweight, I was a week late too."

"So, you're naturally annorexic?"

"Fuck you, Maxipad," he giggled, doing his own little waddling thing to manuever himself about and pack the rest of his things.

I kind of just sat there and watched him pack. My lip was chewed on thoughtfully as I reflected on this pregnancy. His gaunt face had gained a little chubiness, his face lighting up with that glow that everyone got when they were with child. I liked that the space between his thighs shrunk a tiny bit, his legs begining to retain some water.

His ass. God, I honestly had a staring problem when it started getting bigger. I loved his ass, since he didn't really have one before this. Even the curve of his stomach was appealing to me. I'd seen his stretchmarks too. (He screamed and cried about them for maybe an hour.) It never bothered me. What kept me interested was how his shirts rode up or just weren't long enough to cover his belly.

Even his piercings were cute and I loved to look at them whenever I could. He'd had to take his hip ones out when he got bigger, but left his bellybutton barbell in. It was a simple silver curve with a ball on one end and a little shiny blue elephant dangling on the other.

Sometimes I thought about what Ashley could be thinking about when he looked at Jag's belly, rounded and full of his baby.

If that was my doing, I'd feel so proud, possessive. I'd tell him everyday how much I loved him, how beautiful he was and how happy I was that we were having a baby.

But, to my misfortune, that child was made of Purdy Sperm and Decker Egg.

**LATER**

"Butthole," Ashley laughed, his fingers playing with the child inside of Jag, "that was my hand."

"I don't think he gives a fuck," Jag yawned, letting his boyfriend continue to pester his incubating fetus. "he just wants out."

"Still got a while," Monte said, letting Jag rest his head on his lap. "Ash, go get some lotion or something."

Instead, I strode up, handing the guitarist some bottle I'd found while rummaging around. He smiled a little and Jag patted a seat nearby.

"Thanks Maxie," he offered, "so, how ya been?"

"Decent, really," I replied honestly, smiling, "what's it feel like to have the gutworm?"

"If he was a gutworm, I'd be skinny," the blond giggled, "why don't you feel?"

"I thought it was weird to just come up and touch your tummy," I lied. I really didn't want to feel a spark of jealousy that was unneeded just because he was stretched as far as he could go with Ashley fuckin' Purdy's baby. It was disgusting how jealous I was. I knew I should have been happy when he cried happily over the positive piss-test. I should have been a little more sympathetic when Ronnie dumped him on his ass and went off to prison.

Jag's slender fingers brought my hand to where he felt the most kicking and I nearly yelped at the sudden barrage of movement under my palm. I smiled some at the feeling of it, but then it sank away remembering the baby's father was sitting between Jag's parted legs, which were resting over his own long legs.

"He's gonna be an ass-kicker, I know it," I laughed, letting my fingers rest there a bit longer and feeling the surging of life under his pale skin.

I pushed away my jealousy, pretending that this little baby inside of him was really mine.

**LATER-ISH**

It seemed to be movie night as I caught everyone piling in at what was our makeshift den and turning on a tv. Jag was Ashleyless and Monteless, so I took a seat beside him, sprawling a little.

"'Sup Maxipad?"

"You looked lonely," I replied with a chuckle, "where's Mr. Purdy?"

"He went to bed," he answered, "and Monte is over there with Robert arguing over movies."

"Can I sit here with you while we watch?" I felt kind of dumb for asking him, but wanted to be polite. He smiled very lightly at me, nodding and leaning back into his seat. (I think that smile just stopped my heart.) I reclined in my own seat and listened half-heartedly to Monte and Robert fight over movies.

Finally, Andy got up and popped Diehard into the DVD player, causing the rest of us to cheer and the arguing instrumentalists to sulk and sit down with the group.

During most of the movie, Jag had nodded off, his head resting on my shoulder. I smiled a little as he snuggled into my side, unconsiously sucking up a trail of spit.

"Yippie kai-ay, mother fucker!"

And Jag was startled awake. He rubbed his face for a minute and righted himself.

"Well, I'm off to bed," he murmured to me, "night Maxie-boy." His smile flashed again.

"Night Jag." I smiled back dumbly, helping him stand and watching him wade through the sea of musicians.

Once ready myself(which was roughly around three am), I crawled into my bunk and laid there curled up. I was starting to drift off before I heard a soft, wet sound and a telltale grunt. I opened my eyes again.

"Thanks baby," Ashley's voice came thickly from a bunk nearby.

"Can you sleep now?" Jag's soft voice sounded playful from the shared bunk.

"I had something else in mind..."

I shut them out, my chest tightening as I silently cursed Ashley Purdy. Why couldn't it be me whispering those sweet nothings into his delicate and pierced ears? (Why wasn't it my dick shoved down his throat?) I just heaved a quiet sigh and covered my head with a pillow.

Jag giggled and it turned into a hushed gasp. I shut my eyes tightly, trying to pretend that they weren't fucking around right now.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
